


50 AU's meme

by mynewnameisfluffy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:15:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynewnameisfluffy/pseuds/mynewnameisfluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Nr. 5, free space. Royalty AU. Complete and utter crack.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nr. 5, free space. Royalty AU. Complete and utter crack.

Of all the places she had envisioned herself in life, the Scottish throne had never been one of them. She was at the moment only sitting it because her husband the King was indisposed, but still. The great hall in Holyrood Castle was filled with petitioners, all wanting to argue their case for their new sovereign. The sovereign in question had been put on bedrest, as he had caught the flu. So it was up to her, his wife and Queen, to hear the pleas of their people. It would be a long day of accepting cows as christening gifts and settling land-disputes. Thankfully, the throne was cushioned.

 

* * *

 

It was the biggest shock he had ever gotten. He had seen paintings of the first Fraser King and Queen of Scotland before, of course, but this was the first one he’d seen since Claire disapeared. It was his Claire! And the highlander! Who seemed to be King James IX of Scotland. This portrait seemed to be from right after their ascent to the throne, and the birth of their daughter, Queen Brianna I. Claire was seated on her throne in Holyrood Castle, their heir on her lap, and clasping the hand of her husband, seated on his throne beside her. He was looking at her and the child with adoration and love. The child looked content with her seating, with a small diadem on her head, marking her as Duchess of Rothesay, the heir apparent. And Claire was staring out, challenging the wiever. It had been said that while the King ruled Scotland with care and grace, the Queen ruled the King.

The current Queen of Scotland was Queen Claire III, and she looked so like his Claire that Frank had joked on more than one occasion that they must be distant relations. Distant indeed. Direct descendant, more like. The Fraser’s ascent to the throne of Scotland had been unexpected at the time, and had come about only because bonnie Prince Charlie had testamented the throne to his dear friend, before he fell in battle against the English. Many a contemporary source had claimed that it was the witch, Claire Fraser, that had made him do it. Not many held that theory in high regard, Frank least of all, but now he began to wonder if there wasn’t some grain of truth in this. The Queen had been known widely for her healing, and how she fought tooth and nail with the resident physicians. She was also the one responsible for introducing the potato to the highlands, and improving the hygiene in the city. Many changes were put into action during their long reign, and it was to this day celebrated as a golden age in Scotlands history.

The Reverends’ housekeeper had said that some came back trough the stones, and there was some hope in that. Only thing was, Queen Claire I was quite dead, of natural causes, and burried in Holyrood Abbey. Holyrood Abbey had been re-built by the catholic king after he ascended the throne, as it had been destroyed during the scotish reformation. There had been a huge conflict and several wars between the Scots and the English as the Scots had elected a new king, and catholic to boot. But it had always gone in favour of the Scots, by borderline miraculous incidents. First, they managed to get a hold of advanced canons without the English getting heed of it. Second, a plague set in in England, but never reached Scotland. Third, they made an aliance with the French. As it was made clear in victory after victory, the Scotttish would not be taken, the English had to retreat.

As Frank did more research into the lives of the first Fraser Monarchs before they ascended the throne, the more he believed the theory of the housekeeper. The King one could trace back hundreds of years through Scottish nobility, but the Queen could just as well have appeared out of thin air. Her maiden name was noted down as being Beaucham. None of the Beauchams he could find was a match for the Queen. Then they said she had been widowed, and that her husband had had the last name Randall. This was what put the last nail in the coffin, as far as Frank was concerned. His wife had travelled into the past, re-married, and never returned.


	2. No. 1, 1920's AU

Claire had had to run. It was running, or facing execution. Her role in the British Government had been discovered, and her overseas connections had decided that having her double-cross them was an unforgivable grievance. Therefore, she had temporarily left her empire in the capable hands of her second-in-command, Joe, and gone underground. All others were to believe her dead or kidnaped, especially her fiancé Frank. She held open one of her communication lines to Joe, packed the most necessary items, and ran. The fact that Dougal of the clan MacKenzie, as they were calling themselves, had managed to recognize her and had made her the “honoured guest” of his brother’s headquarters, was just her luck. Now they had gotten the brilliant idea of hiding her in plain sight, by making her one of them. And to make her one of them, she had to marry. Dougal would probably have married her himself, if the looks he sent her were anything to go by, but he had a wife and two daughters, and a bastard by his brother’s wife to boot. Oh they thought they were so discreet and secretive, but they underestimated her. She had been trained from infancy to extract critical information, to further the family business by obtaining secrets valuable enough to be sold to the right people.

 

 

Her father had been delighted when the war broke out, as that meant the governments on both sides would hunger after information, and, as any good businessman, he played both sides for profit. That would in turn end fatally, as the French had both him and his wife assassinated. So she, his then twenty-two year old daughter, had taken the helm. No doubt Colum had great plans for her, when she joined their ranks. She would just have to hang in there until they trusted her enough to let down their guard, so she could run away. In the meantime, she would have to circumvent them to get her orders to Joe.

 

 

All this, she was contemplating, staring into her glass of red wine, when Murtagh came into the room. He was leading a trail of maidservants, carrying a dress-bag, a jewellery box, and various cosmetics. The dress was hung up, the bag unzipped, the box opened, and the cosmetics put down. At Murtagh’s cue, they stepped back.

 

“Are you ready?” he asked.

 

“Do I have a choice?” she said.

 

“No, but I was being courteous.”

 

“Well then. Better get this over with.”

 

 

The maidservants started by straightening her hair. They applied powder, blush, mascara, and lipstick, sprayed her in perfume and applied glitter. Thankfully, the corsets of her youth was no longer in fashion, as they dressed her in bra and panties, garters and stockings, before gingerly lowering the dress over her head. It was white, floor-length, sleeveless, with halter neck straps. Glass pearls were sewn on, white on white, imitating peacock feathers. The look was finished off with a white headband and pearl earbobs and bracelets. It was not the wedding she had envisioned, it being miles from her ancestral home, her parents dead, the heirloom jewellery secure in a safe, and the wrong groom at the altar. None of the guests were invited by her, so, she imagined, there would be no-one of note present. A shame. She had hoped the King would be there when she wed. It wasn’t a small part she’d played in keeping Britain safe. Granted, she’d done her best to put the Empire, or what was left of it, at risk as well.

 

 

There was a knock at the door, and Dougal came in, without waiting for permission. He

looked her up and down, seemed to be satisfied, and offered her his arm. She took it

demonstratively, without looking at him, and he led her out of the door, into a future she had

little control over. Which she intended to amend.


	3. Superheroes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime can talk to animals, and is, in essence, a banshee. Claire has telekinesis. Brianna can shapeshift, and can heal herself. Dougal has gotten cybernetic enhancements to survive.

Now he had gone way too far. Jaime had gone for the kill when Dougal had threatened his wife, but now, he had Brianna. His sweet little girl, although little no longer, in the claws of his uncle. That man had hated his guts for as long as Jaime could remember, both because of who his father was, and because he had gotten powers from his mother. Dougal had always been bitter that the ancestral blessing had passed him over. That Claire had chosen Jaime for her husband, and given him a daughter of immense power had not gone down well either. So to get a stab at both of them, he had taken their daughter.

 

She had thought the bastard dead. After what happened at Culloden, where he attacked her, and Jaime defended her. No one should have survived that. She wouldn't call the state of more tech than man that Dougal was in a life worth living, but the man was stubborn and not prone to giving up. Jaime was also stubborn, and at the moment, he was pacing the floor of the Hub, musing aloud about where Dougal could be keeping their daughter. She looked towards him, seeing the levitating table as she did. She had to force herself to lower it.

 

"He could have her at Leoch, but Hamish would not allow his cousin to be kept there, and Bree could probably recognise it, so he wouldn't dare it. Geilis might be a suspect, that witch he was involved with earlier. She is your nemesis, and wouldn't be opposed to hurt you. But it's too obvious! For all we know, he has made his own lair in the years he has been gone."

"I could ask about among my informants, maybe they know something. Joe is already on the lookout for them. You have asked The Klan? And your friends?"

"All of the Lallybroch people are looking for her, you know that. They love her too much for me to keep them out of it. And Dougal has gone outside The Klan, he's as good as a vagabond. They're also looking, as she is one of them, and we look after our own."

 

Jaime abruptly stopped pacing as he heard one of his informants outside, listened to what it had to say, and stormed off. Claire ran after him, jumping out of a window and lowering herself to the ground outside the garage, where Jaime would be with the car. Their daughter needed them.

* * *

 

 

"Why are you doing this? Who are you? Let me go!"

"Oh, I can't do that. You're too valuable. Your parents won't come running if I don't have you."

"My parents? You have taken me to get a stab at my parents?"

"Well, yes. They caused me a lot of grief, back in the day. Your father is s the reason I look like I look. And your mother foiled my plan of taking over The Klan. So you see, I have to get back at them. And the easiest way to do that, is through you."

"Who are you?"

"Don't you know? You wound me. It's no way to greet your great uncle Dougal."

"No." She breathed.

"Yes. What powers do you have, though? Your mothers levitation? Or your fathers shrieking? I must say, I feel it is cowardly, but effective, that one."

"What makes you think I will tell you anything?"

"Oh, you will tell m everything I want to know. I can be very persuasive."


	4. Chapter 4, nr 3, group therapy AU

It had been his sister who forced him to go. She said it would be good for him, to get out, talk to others who had experienced the same thing. The fact that she herself didn’t go, when they had lost the same parents, made him wonder if it was just a ruse to get him out of the house. Or maybe just wasn’t looking out for herself in all this, as per usual. 

The whole thing had been a cryfest of unfathomable dimensions, and extremely boring, so he had contemplated just bailing, but for the fact that Jenny would have his hide. But that was before. Before Claire Elizabeth Beaucham had started to attend. She was just like him, said as little as possible about herself, her grief, or her loss as possible. The little he had found out after the two sessions she had been there was that her uncle Lamb, the one to take her in after her parents died, had just passed on himself. The pastor at her local church had insisted she attend the grief group, to have someone with which to talk. 

And talk they did. Alone, that is, over coffee. They had been paired up for one of those stupid exercises meant to make them open up, share their inner thoughts. The only thing it usually accomplished was give Jaime a headache. But this time, he had disclosed to his beautiful partner that it was all a bunch of hogwash, she had agreed, and they had bailed together, to grab a coffee or three. Jenny couldn’t be too ad at him, could she? He got out of the house, and he talked about the hard stuff. The fact that they scheduled next date when he walked her home to the flat she shared with her shrewd roommate Geilis, was just an added bonus.


	5. Chapter 5, nr 4, political drama.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a crossover with A song of ice and fire, as I could not get the idea that Claire and Jaime could have been the parents of the Stark kids out of my head.

Robb had known that this day would one day come. That his betrothed, the future Lady of Winterfell would be chosen. He had just been picturing a nice, charming, northern girl. But his father and Yohn Royce were childhood friends, from when Jaime had been fostered in the Vale. And so, Ysilla Royce would be Ysilla Stark, rule beside him and have his children. He just hoped that they could build a marriage like his mother and father had. Sansa and Bree always found the story of how they came to wed as terribly romantic. Their mother, always a spirited soul, had disguised herself as a boy and studied as an acolyte at the citadel. She had been halfway through her chain, which by then consisted of the yellow gold for economics, black iron for ravenry, the iron of war-craft, several silver ones for healing, and the one she never mentioned, of red gold. It was when she was halfway through her link of valyrian steel, the study of magic and witchcraft, that someone got on her trail. It was, he had lured out of her once, because her roommate came back from the library too early, and saw her as she washed. He then ran out, after he had spluttered for a while, and she threw on her robe, before sprinting down into the study where the maester she studied under for her valyrian steel link. This maester was Jaime’s uncle Alexander, who was not overly vexed that his only student was female, and agreed to help her run. 

She had packed her few belongings, and headed back home to Riverrun, to her Lord Uncle Lambert Beauchamp, Lord of the Riverlands. On the way, though, she had been taken by a band of men under the Kings protection. A protection they used to their full advantage, pillaging, raping and killing their way through the land. They made their way through the Riverlands, Claire praying for rescue all the way, using all her cunning to keep her captors at arms length, claiming that if they wanted uncle Lamb to ransom her, she would have to be a maiden in one piece. On the River Road near Darry, they were ambushed. A group of fifteen shrieking young men wielding swords, some of them in only their shirts hanging around their thighs, wielding swords and axes, chasing around the band of red-cloaks. Claire could do nothing more than watch, as she was tied to her saddle. 

As the last of her captors were either killed or chased away, her rescuers convened around her horse. They were led by Jaime, their father, who had been sent by his foster-father, Lord Jon Arryn, to hunt down some outlaws roaming the land. The red-cloaks was an added bonus. As he had strapped his kilt back on, because as he had found out while living in the Vale, the surest way of shocking your opponent was to run at him with your arse bare, they had vowed to get her home in one piece. On the road, they claimed that Jaime and Claire were man and wife, traveling to meet with her family. This, they had assured Claire, would mean that she was safe. As they came to be fond of one another on the way, Jaime asked Great-Uncle Lamb for her hand in marriage when they reached Riverrun, and their families convened to celebrate. On the way there, Jenny, Robb’s aunt, was kidnapped, and the wedding was postponed as they searched for her. William, her brother, decided to take matters into his own hands, as he was sure it was Rhaegar who had kidnapped her. He and his father both were fed to the flames by the Mad King, so Jaime became Lord of Winterfell in their stead. The wedding was held somberly in Riverrun's godswood, before the banners marched to war.

His train of thought is cut short, as his mother nudges him in the ribs. He stands straight, looking around, and hears the blast of trumpets heralding approaching riders. Mother smiles at him an squeezes his hand, and father rests a reassuring paw on his. He gives them both what he hopes is a smile that does not reveal how nervous he is.


End file.
